


Through

by Trixen



Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:57:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5297366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trixen/pseuds/Trixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little ditty. Based on the TV show. What if Claire had found her way through the stones before the Red Coats got her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through

___

_Beat, beat._

It rushed within her then, like drums or a cat’s paw, swiping. Her old cat from childhood, Barney. Sand on his whiskers and the little scritch scratch of his tongue against her cheek on sunlit mornings. _Beat, beat._

_Wake up, Claire. Wake up, you dumb bunny._

She rolls her head to the side just as she vomits clear and pale liquid over the wet grass. She tastes it in her mouth, like oats or other bland things, whatever Jamie fed her for breakfast. He said she ate so little, and that by comparison he ate enough for an ox and she had laughed, her heart thrumming against her breast, her heart. Oh.

_Jamie._

The shock of it, it pummels her belly and she throws up again, his semen, his kisses, the blood in the back of the rapist. Blood blush of a popped kidney and Jamie whispering to her afterward, palming her hands, calling her his brown haired lass, his love. Was that what it meant? Was that all there was?

What had she done?

Someone is clutching at her shoulder and for a moment she feels blessed relief, oh such sweet and pure relief. It will be Willie, or even Jamie, returned early, and she wonders, was Horrocks really what Hugh had said he would be and what would Christmas be at Leoch and what bed would they share, dark and hot in the night – she had promised him, after all, promised him she would be there _here here when he got back – promised, Claire, oh why did you do that_

“Claire, are you all right, oh Claire…”

She can feel the weight of pearls, heavy and cool against her collarbones. She sees his eyes.

She closes hers.

+

The moment he runs up to the stones, he knows.

He doesn’t ken _how_ he knows, but he does. Jamie Fraser is many things, but he is not foolish or fanciful.

_Is she gone she is gone_

At the base of the tallest rock, there is a length of plaid, its folds seared by dirt and grass, the sweet stink of rain clinging to his nose as he touches it, wonders.

“Lady Lallybroch,” he says, whispers really, and his voice cracks just once, his hand reaching out for the stone, his hand reaching to her, to nothing, to a memory of brown curls

in the light of the fire.

**Finis.**


End file.
